He chuckles on the other end of the speaker. “Okay.”
The elevator starts moving a moment later, and instead of going to the third floor like it normally would, it stops on the second. When the doors open, Kane is there to move the gate and let me out.
I search the space behind him, but it’s a simple, dark gray hallway.
“This is it? I was expecting bats and maybe a waterfall.”
One of the corners of his mouth tugs up at my joke. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
He leads me down the hall and stops at the first door before opening it. “This is the gym.”
He pulls the door open, and I peek inside.
“Holy shit.” My mouth drops open as I survey the massive space filled with equipment. “I was expecting a Bowflex, and you’ve got an LA Fitness.”
Kane laughs, and I soak up the sound.
“Something like that. Come on. That’s not the part of the bat cave you really wanted to see.”
He’s right. I turn to follow him toward another door at the end of a hallway. This one has a fancy-looking keypad and what I hope is a retina scanner. Because that would complete my little mental picture I’ve been forming of his lair.
And I’m right.
Kane puts his fingers on a piece of glass and looks into the scanner before the door opens—and then my mind isblown.
“Holy. Shit. Are you kidding me right now?”
I feel like I just walked into the Pentagon, and not the room for the normal people. This is like the bunker for the joint chiefs and president. Everything looks so fancy, I’m almost scared to touch anything for fear of breaking it.
“Are you staging a nuclear strike from here? Or is that next week?”
Kane laughs again, but I’m not totally joking.
“Not exactly. More like operationSave Ransom’s Ass.”
My humor evaporates, and I’m reminded of why I sought Kane out to begin with.
“I truly can’t thank you enough for doing what you’re doing. It means more to me than you’ll ever know. This isn’t anything fancy, and nowhere near enough, but I made it for you and I want you to have it.” I hold out my sweatshirt to Kane.
He looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “Your sweatshirt?”
“Inside.”
When he unfolds the fabric and looks at the pieces of metal I’ve welded together, I wonder if he recognizes what it is. My art isn’t the kind that you can always tell exactly what I’m trying to portray, but I thought I came pretty close here.
“It’s a—”
“Willys jeep,” he says, finishing for me. “The kind they used in the army originally, right?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“You made this for me?”
“Before ... before everything. I didn’t have time to give it to you then, but I wanted you to have it now. I truly am grateful.”
He holds the jeep in one hand and reaches for me with the other. “I didn’t do this for gratitude. I told you, I would’ve done it even if you hated me. Took me a while to realize that’s what love is supposed to be.”
“Dammit, don’t make me cry again.”